The End of Love
by ViolaFable
Summary: What happens when you reach the end of love?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Disclaimer: I own none of these and I make no money. This story is AU.

Hogwarts was always a busy place. People were bustling around, students running to and from classes, ghosts patrolling the corridors, teachers rushing to staff meetings. Everyone was busy with the task which was currently so important to them. _So mundane, so everyday, so normal_…

People were completing what they thought should be done on a daily basis, carrying on like worker ants, doing the same thing every second, every minute of every hour of every day. _So mundane, so everyday, so normal_…

What did it matter that when these normal people went to sleep and the darkness embraced the castle, and then in the quiet of the night, he had to commit these horrors? Why every night did he wish to kill himself? And why did no-one care?

The endless soliloquy was a familiar one. It was like a play, well rehearsed, which showed in the theatre of his mind every day. Severus Snape, Potions Master of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, unsung hero of the light – heaven forbid it would blow his cover – most faithful servant of the Dark Lord, sighed, got the white mask and black robe, and headed to report for his nightly _duties_.

At the top of the astronomy tower, a figure was sitting. The wind blowing unruly curls from the neat ponytail she used to tame her beastly hair.

She thought about what she had to do tomorrow. Get up, shower, go to class, answer questions, be the bright happy girl everyone thought her to be. _So tiring…_

Go to the Great Hall, eat the food she doesn't taste anymore, go to the Library, look at the books that lost all the luster they once held, do homework. _So routine…_

Go to the common room, help Harry and Ron. Go to sleep. _And again…_

And again. Every day of every week of every month of every year. If this is what it meant to be grown up, they could really take it back and give her back her childhood fantasies of fairies and dwarfs, where she could build castles in the sky and pretend the world was the way she wanted it to be.

Have fun, get a life. Get out more, see more, do more – _how?_

Hermione Granger was whishing for just one more book – a manual on how to get through this thing they called life.

She was roused out of her reverie when she saw a shadow move across the grounds, making its way to the gates. The Gryffindor in her wanted to charge this person, demand an explanation as to why they would be doing something so out of the ordinary, so out of place.

Out of place?

Hermione slowly stood, silently made her way out of the castle to stand vigil at the gate, waiting for the shadow to return.

Nobody would miss her; those in the Library would think she was in the common room and vice versa. She stood in the moonlight, watching the play of the shadows dancing to the rhythm of the night. She listened to the forest breathing and the wind whispering long forgotten stories in her ear.

As time crept by, she found herself focusing on the spot she expected him to appear. She feared that if she blinked she would miss the second he appeared.

A slight _pop_ made her glance to a spot just south of where she was looking. She lifted her gaze slowly, taking in the heavy robes, long arms, the square shoulders, the white mask framed by a curtain of black hair. His eyes were pools of obsidian liquid.

When he arrived he felt a presence near the gate. He was immediately alert. A movement to his left made him look. There, by the gate, stood a woman. Luminescent and wraith-like. Almost transparent in the moonlight. He followed her gaze as she traced the contours of his body, her face revealing no trace of emotion.

The beauty of this vision made him move, the gates, recognizing him allowed him entrance. He stepped up to her, looked down into her eyes and struggled to hide the shock he was feeling.

She stepped closer – _how did that happen - _and looked up to his face.

"It's dangerous outside Miss Granger." _I so want to kiss her_ he said instead in his mind.

"Not as much as outside the gate, sir," she replied.

"Perhaps." He stepped to the side, looked down at her and pasted his trade mark sneer on his face: "Curfew is long past Miss Granger, we wouldn't want you to have an _untimely_ accident"

"That would be an unfortunate event indeed sir. I mean, _untimely_ accidents should never happen. It leaves those left behind bereft."

"It would seem as though you would want me to believe you actually care?" he sneered.

"I care about nothing anymore." she stated, no trace of emotion on her face. She looked up at him once more, put her arms on his shoulders, gave him a kiss on the cheek, and walked away.

He stood there looking at her retreating back, wondering how a person so bright and full of life, habitually irritatingly happy, could look like a lifeless corpse.

Dismissing his thoughts he stalked to his chambers, determined to drown himself in his usual amber pool of forgetfulness.

He startled awake at the pounding on his door. "Severus! Severus!" His mind dimly registered Albus Dumbledore's pleading voice. "Please we need your help!"

He opened the door to reveal the Headmaster, a body on a stretcher next to him, containing the pale form of one Hermione Granger.

"Please Severus – only you can save her now"

AN: Please review and tell me if you would like to see more of this.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own none of these and I make no money. This story is AU.

Hogwarts was always a busy place. People were bustling around, students running to and from classes, ghosts patrolling the corridors, teachers rushing to staff meetings. Everyone was busy with the task which was currently so important to them.

All but two people who were inside the castle walls. Breakfast was a funny affair. The Headmaster announced that Professor Snape will be taking a few days off to tend to 'personal affairs' and he himself would be supervising all potions classes.

Harry and Ron were oddly silent during breakfast as well. When asked what was wrong a grumbled: "mind your own business" was heard.

Hogwarts' day had started.

Meanwhile, in a nook of the castle, hidden in the dungeons, far below the hustle and bustle, two people were sitting.

"Untimely accidents are not good for your health, Miss Granger." Severus Snape stated his voice void of emotion. Last night when they brought her to him he was worried. Now he was upset. But he would never let her know it.

"Who said it was untimely, sir?" she responded, looking at the dark man sitting in front of her, the shadows playing across his face in the light of the candle.

"Why would it not be untimely?" he asked. _Damn her._ As if his life wasn't complicated enough. He wondered why Poppy couldn't diagnose her, couldn't find the problem. Albus knew, though. That's why he came to Severus.

"Why would it?" She countered. She sat, still looking at him. She was propped on the bed, her back to the wall and her legs dangling off the side. He was seated in a plush chair, covered in green velvet, directly opposite her.

"Why would it indeed." He said. _Fuck. I'm not winning,_ he thought. He looked down, the patterns on the carpet fascinating him. The twirls of greens, blacks and creams creating a hypnotizing pattern. He stood up, walked out the door leading to his sitting room. After he opened the liquor cabinet he poured two double whiskeys. Subtlety won't help in this instance.

He returned, and handed her a whiskey. Twirling the ice in the glass, he sat back and crossed his legs. He took a sip, savoring the taste. This was the beginning of oblivion, peaceful, happy oblivion. He whispered a spell, calling a box of cigars to him.

Smirking, he opened the box and offered it to her.

"No thanks" she said.

"Why not?" he asked.

"Why should I?" she asked.

"It helps," he answered.

She took one, and sniffed at it. She was watching him intently, memorizing his each and every move. After he cut the tip and lighted it, he handed the cutter to her. She mimicked him, and a few seconds later was puffing contentedly on her cigar.

"You are used to this," he stated, noticing the satisfied look on her face.

"Smoking?" she asked.

"Yes,"

"Yes."

"When did you start?" he asked, curious as to how she was hiding this dirty little secret. Minerva would have a fit if she knew her precious lioness was used to smoking, cigars none the less.

"This isn't going to turn into one of these please don't to this it's bad for your health teacher speeches is it?" she asked.

"That would be rather hypocritical of me" he answered, puffing out smoke and taking a sip of whiskey.

"Just now." She answered.

Severus sat, one eyebrow raised. No coughing, no spluttering.

Hermione sat looking at him, puffing her cigar, sipping her whiskey, thinking: _how the hell did I end up here? Good girls don't smoke. Good girls don't drink. And good girls sure as hell did not fantasize about people they had no business fantasizing about._

"What are you thinking about?" he asked her.

"Nothing," she replied, looking him straight in the eyes.

He leaned forward, turned his head and stared at her. His dark obsidian eyes giving no clue as to where precisely he was looking. He leaned back, put down his whiskey and cigar, got up and leaned over her. He brushed his lips over hers, quickly, softly, little more than a promise. She closed her eyes in response. As she opened them and looked into his eyes, he rubbed her cheek.

"Ok Hermione, lets drop the bullshit. Why don't you tell me what this is all about?" he demanded.

AN: Please review and tell me if you would like to see more of this.


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